The Daring and the Dangerous
by Goldenbrook15
Summary: Richard never became Robin. Wally ran away from home. Artemis went with her sister. M'gann left Mars earlier and her uncle never found out. Conner escaped Cadmus after a fire with the help of some 'birds' . . . Several years later Bruce Wayne watches the Daring Danger's do a performance at the circus, but is there more to these teens than he suspects?
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Young Justice.**

 **The Daring and the Dangerous**

 **Yes, this is another story, no I am not abandoning any of my other ones. I just had an inspiration flash and this came from it so I might as well do doing with it.**

 **Thanks for all of the support for my others stories and I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I do.**

Summary:

 _Richard never became Robin. Wally ran away from home. Artemis went with her sister. M'gann left Mars earlier and her uncle never found out. Conner escaped Cadmus after a fire with the help of some 'birds' . . . Several years later Bruce Wayne watches the Daring Danger's do a performance at the circus, but is there more to these teens than he suspects?_

 **Chapter 1**

 _Survivors_

 _"No!"_

It was a single moment; a moment that changed his life forever. One second he had been watching his mother and father fly through the air, arching gracefully like elegant birds dancing, and the next they were falling.

The rope had snapped.

"Dick," his mother's breath, almost question-like, disbelieving, slipped from her lips. In her eyes he could see that she had seen what had happened, could feel gravity gabbing hold of her in its hungry claws and dragging her downwards, but she could not comprehend it. She was a Flying Grayson. Flying Graysons did not fall.

Except this time they did.

 _"Mom!"_ Dick wasn't aware of his forward lunge as he tried to grab her hands. _So close just a few more inches!_ He wasn't aware of the hands that grabbed him and held him back, held him back from jumping, from the edge, from death . . . from his parents.

 _"No . . ."_ A sob tore through his thin, horrified frame. Thirty feet below him a red pool spread.

It was only hours later that what had happened fully settled in as he eavesdropped on a conversation with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his blue eyes blank with grief.

 _"Is there any way that he can stay here?"_

His parents, loving, laughing, joy filled and always encouraging. They couldn't be gone, they just couldn't. This had to be a nightmare. If he just held on, any moment he would wake up to his mother's singing and the smell of pancakes. It was all just a nightmare, it _had to be._

 _"The boy? I'm afraid not, Mr. Haley. By law it is required that he live in a stable environment. He was only living in the circus in the first place because of his parents. Without them, well, it seems we don't have a choice._

Dick Grayson, last of the Flying Graysons, shuddered, his chest heaving with suppressed sobbing. His lungs tightened. He felt alone, so alone. There was no one there to comfort him, not even thinly veiled words of encouragement, only gazes of pity and sorrow for him.

His parents were dead, and now they were going to rip him away from the rest of his family.

Not far from his position another conversation caught his ear, one that made his insides freeze and his eyes to widen ever so slightly.

 _"The job was done?"_

 _"Yes. No one suspects a thing."_

 _"And the boy?"_

 _"He'll be in our clutches by tomorrow night. They are sending him to an orphanage. From there it shouldn't be too hard to pick him up with out any questions."_

 _"Perfect. Send me the details when we are ready to move. That boy is necessary for our operations._ Don't _loose him, Claw. You know the consequences if you do."_

 _"It will be as you say."_

Dick felt as if his fingers were frozen, even though they were wrapped around a warm mug of hot chocolate. While his body was completely still, his mind was rushing faster than it had ever before.

His parents fall hadn't been an accident, it was a murder, and the people who had done it planned it to get to _him_. Dick shuddered harder, pulling the blanked closer as he retreated into his thoughts. _Why?_

 _Why him? What did they want?_

If he hadn't been here, would his parents still be alive?

 _No. I can't think like that. There are too many what ifs . . . what ifs will only drag me down._

Dick hunched further, his fingers begging to shake.

What would his parents want him to do? Stay in the circus for one, but that wasn't an option. Going to the orphanage was out now, too. Those men would be waiting for him if he did.

In the dark of night, exhausted, terrified, and alone, Dick made his decision, the only choice that seemed reasonable at the time.

When dawn broke the next day and the police came to pick him up, there was no little boy to find. His trailer had been mostly cleaned out, keepsakes gone as well as blankets, clothing, and food.

He had run away.

If the situation had played out a little different, if the accident had happened in Gotham instead of Central City, if a certain billionaire had seen in a little boy what he saw in himself when the boys parents died, maybe Richard Grayson's path would have led him in a different direction. But it did not. His parents died in Central City, and he ran away before anyone could get their claws into him.

In a single moment, Dick Grayson's destiny was altered forever.

0~o~0

Wally West was a good kid. He was a fast runner, top of his elementary class, and one of the happiest boys his age.

Or, at least, that is what people around him _saw._ None of them realized that under the laughs, the loud exclamations, the fast sprints, their lay a dark secret; a secret that he tried to cover up with long sleeves and turtlenecks, a secret that hurt him both inside and out.

Unlike other kids his age, Wally West's parents didn't love him. To them he was a financial burden that should never have happened. He was skinny not because of a high metabolism (though that might have helped) but because his mother sometimes refused to let him eat. He wasn't top of his class because his parents encouraged him too be, but because he didn't know another way to get attention, to get them to _notice._

He didn't laugh and tell jokes because he was happy; he did it because if he didn't he knew that he might never recover from the crash.

It was a mask. _Wally's_ mask. It was a mask that he had been wearing for his entire life.

And it was starting to crack.

Wally leaned against a pole and slide down in to the ground. It was just wide enough to hide his tiny frame as he wrapped his arms around his knees and felt wetness gather in his eyes. Persistent calls from the other children looking for him faded into background noise as his head hit the boney part of his knees.

As always, as soon as the laugher and light was gone, the darkness raced forward to grasp at him, his thoughts twisting.

 _Why do I even try? It's not like anyone notices, anyway._

Wally's chest tightened at the sneering voice that spoke his darkest thoughts.

 _Would anyone notice if I were to just . . . disappear? It would be so easy. Just a simple slice, a little bit of pain, and then it would be all over. It's not like anyone really cares._

Cold fingers slipped down to his pocket, where they fingered the sharp edge of a small razor.

 _Just a slice . . ._

The metal glinted as it was pulled half way out of the pocket, and then stopped, the handle caught on a frayed string.

"What are you doing all the way out here?" a voice suddenly interrupted Wally's musings, making his head dart up in surprise.

"What?" he blinked as he found himself faced with a younger boy in slightly too tattered clothing, a baseball cap, and a backpack slung over one shoulder. A pare of blue eyes peering out at him with just as much sadness, and darkness, as his own.

It was almost as if he were looking into a reflection.

The boy shifted, his slightly blank eyes glancing past him to the playground with longing and yet aloofness that Wally could understand.

They could stand among the crowd, but that didn't mean they were one of them.

"Your friends were looking for you. Why don't you go with them?"

 _Are you like me?_

The blade was slid back into his pocket before he could really consider what he was doing and he sat up straighter. For the first time he met someone who might understand.

Someone who knew what it felt like to have the darkness inside of them.

"I . . . I didn't feel like it today," Wally said, shrugging slightly as he leaned back against the pole and gestured for the boy to sit. After a moments hesitation the boy did so, shifting so that he was sitting crisscross and his feet pulled up on top of the rest of his legs in what looked like a slightly uncomfortable position. Wally didn't say anything about it, however. Everyone had their quirks.

"Why?" the boy asked back, his eyes searching.

Again, Wally hesitated. Should he tell the other? Should he really expose his biggest secret to a boy he had only just met? In fact, the boy looked at least five years younger than himself.

Could he really burden one so young?

Wally glanced away, his heart plummeting. No, he couldn't. Not yet. He wasn't ready to tell yet.

"I'm just not feeling good."

There was silence for several moments before the boy slumped in what seemed like defeat.

"I know what that feels like."

Wally twitched and blinked, "What?"

The boy shrugged and hugged his bare arms which, now that Wally was looking, had several nasty looking scares on them.

The boy glanced to the side, considering, before he nodded to himself, "It all began two years ago . . ."

The boy told him about his family. How his parents cared for him and how their entire neighborhood (he hesitated slightly before saying it, making Wally curious) was like his family. He described the horror he felt as he watched his parents be murdered (no explanation, but Wally could imagine what had happened) and how their murderer's had been after him.

He told Wally that he had run away, and that was one of the best decisions of his life.

"If I hadn't run," the boy said softly, "I wouldn't be who I am: a Survivor."

Wally wondered what that felt like.

The boy spoke of a time when the darkness held reign over his heart and mind, how he wondered if it would be better if he didn't exist. He described the plan he had made, the knife he had chosen, the time and place.

"What made you change your mind?" and the boy _had_ changed his mind, Wally could see, but he wanted to know _why_.

 _How? How do I become a Survivor instead of a victim?_

The boy smiled, small, rueful, and thankful, "I saved someone's life. There was a robbery going on in the alley and the man was about to shook a young lady for her purse. I . . . stopped him."

Determined blue met hopeful, "And at that moment, I realized that I didn't _want_ to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to live because that meant that I could help others who might need me, who might _die_ because I wasn't there."

Wally felt the words settle into his heart as a new voice, small but hopeful, began to beat alongside the darkness, a shield around his heart.

 _I want to live._

Wally's hands clenched around his backpack as tears gathered in his eyes. Behind him the bell rang, signaling that it was time to come back in.

 _I can help others. Just like the Superheroes. I don't need superpowers or a mask to help people, because a bright heart and understanding can save just as many._

 _Just like this boy._

"Thank you."

For the first time he meant it.

The boy smiled and stood up, brushing off his ripped pants and knees, "Your welcome."

The parted ways and Wally wasn't sure if he would ever see the boy again, but one thing was certain.

The boy had not just changed his life, he had saved it.

 _If I hadn't run, I wouldn't be who I am: A Survivor._

He would be a Survivor too.

That night when Rudolph West came home with anger in his eyes and alcohol on his breath, expecting to find the boy who was the cause of all their problems, he was confronted with an empty room.

Wally West had run away.

A week later Barry Allen showed up at the West Household, having just found proof that the family was related to his wife. In fact, Rudolph was her younger brother who had been kidnapped when he was a child and DNA scanning had confirmed it.

What he found was not what he expected.

If he had been a week earlier, if Wally West had not had that talk with the strange boy, he would have found his nephew close to death after attempting suicide to get away from his parents cruelty. He would have rushed the boy to the hospital and called in a full investigation that would have ended with him adopting his nephew into his family and, a few years later, gaining a sidekick in his side job.

He wasn't though, and he didn't. Wally West was already gone and, due to lots of evidence within the house itself, assumed dead.

Iris West-Allen felt her heart break as she both found and lost her family within a short amount of time.

She mourned the nephew she would never meet.

Meanwhile, a red haired boy wandered the streets, eyes blazing and determined as he searched for the boy who had changed his life. It would have been nearly impossible in a city this large if it weren't for the fact that the boy was still in the same part of town.

They met again, and this time Wally was the one to approach the other, holding out his hand, "Hi. I didn't get to introduce myself before. My name is Wally, what's yours?"

The boy smiled back, tired but sincere, and took the hand, "Call me Dick. It's good to see you again Wally."

"You too."

0~o~0

Artemis's hands trembled as she haphazardly folded her clothing and stuffed it into a light bag.

 _"We have to keep this family together!"_

 _"Our family is broken. Either come with me, or stay here. That is your choice."_

Wetness gathered in the corners of her eyes, which she quickly wiped away from her face. She hadn't taken up the offer, she hadn't left with her sister, but she should have. She should have but she couldn't leave her mother.

 _"What's wrong?" Artemis asked fearfully._

 _The Doctor sighed and pulled off his glasses, rubbing the bridge between his nose and brow, "I'm sorry . . ."_

 _"No . . ."_

 _"Your mother has cancer, near her spinal cord. If it had been caught earlier we might have been able to cut it out but . . . it has already spread. The cancer has entered stage three. She has a month."_

One month. She had one month to spend with her slowly sickening mother. Her father was gone, away on a mission, and her sister had disappeared.

 _"Be strong, Artemis," her mother said, a pained smile stretching up her face even as her breathing became even more labored, "You know what to do. You're a survivor. Be Strong and don't give up."_

 _Don't give up._

Even though she had known the time was approaching it was still a shock to wake up and find that her mother had passed away some time in the night, cold hand still clutched in hers.

A quick call to the hospital set the plan into motion. She hated herself for what she was about to do, but it had to be done.

She _would not_ be put into a Home.

Packed and ready, weapons either destroyed or hidden on her person, Artemis slipped out her door and walked down the street, pausing only to glance back one last time as the ambulance pulled up to the run down apartments. She watched as they carried the limp, covered body of her mother away and the police swarmed over the scene.

Her mother had been an ex. Convict, after all.

Hidden in the shadows, Artemis went unseen but all but one.

"Are you ready to leave?"

The stiffening of her back was the only indication that Artemis had heard, then she closed her eyes to hide her tears and turned around. From the shadows further in the ally a figure, dressed in green clothing with a white, grinning mask staining the darkness, stepped forward.

"Yes."

"Then let's go . . . sister."

They both slipped into the shadows, leaving the police to wonder what had happened to the dead woman's daughter, but deeming it unimportant.

The woman had been an ex. Convict, after all. Her child would show up at some point, no doubt.

0~o~0

 **Well, what do you think? I know what you are all probably thinking, but I could not resist. After weeks on end of no inspiration at all this hit me like a bulldozer. I litteraly could not stop typing which is why it is so long.**

 **In fact, my mind is still churning but I have to cut it off here as I still have a** ** _ton_** **of homework to do and only a few hours to do it in (I hate essays sometimes).**

 **NOTE: I am** ** _not_** **abandoning any of my other stories. I've actually got several half chapters written, I just need to complete them when I have the time.** ** _Hidden Secrets_** **is probably the closest to being completed, so anyone who is looking forward to that be watching. Also,** ** _Consequences_** **is also nearly complete and just needs to be pieced together and edited.**

 **If there are any requests for which stories I should update next send them through PM's. Thank you.**

 **Reviews? Pretty please with an extra chapter (not in the next two weeks though, I'm near run into the ground as is) on top?**

 **Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice.**

 **Many of you asked if Wally was ever going to receive superspeed and I can say that I am planning on it, but it might not occur for a few chapters. He is definitely going to become a hero first before he gains any extra powers.**

 **Sorry that I have not updated in a while. I have a lot of things going on and a lot of stories to focus on. I hope you like this chapter!**

 **Chapter 2**

 _Choices_

 _"Any hero could have just as easily chosen to be a villain . . . just as any villain could have been a hero."_

In another world, in another place, he would have become the youngest child (non-super) hero to take to the streets under the guidance of the great Batman. He would have been adopted by a billionaire and thrust into the life of the wealthy and learned, help start a team of kid heroes, and become famous both in and out of his mask.

That wasn't here, however. That wasn't now.

Dick Grayson was an orphan who had been forced onto the streets due to the tragic deaths of his family. He had run away, and he had done it on his own.

Life of the streets was different than he had expected. A lot different. Things that he had come to expect, like food, a warm place to sleep, and a comforting hug, were now things of luxury.

He had been alone for the first time in his life. And then he had meet Wally.

Living on the streets was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but two and a half years later he wouldn't give it up for almost anything.

"Hurry up, Wally! We have to run!" Dick laughed and nearly bounced off of the walls and railings between the two rundown buildings of downtown Central City, a bag over his shoulder. Beneath him a red haired boy panted loudly as he dodged between and over the trash that littered the ground, another bag on his shoulder.

"Not . . . not all of us . . . can move . . . like you!" Wally gasped out between breaths, glancing back to check if their pursuers were still after them.

"Get back here, runts! That's _our_ stuff!"

A laugh nearly bubbled out of the red head. Well _that_ question was answered.

The large, angry guys behind them weren't poor street dwellers, civilians, or villains, so they were fare game as far as stealing went in Dick's book. Wally just went along with it. This was just another of their hit and runs on the villain grunt work and already they were gaining a reputation in the underworld for being some of the best thieves around.

Which is why they had to find a better way of hiding their identities than baseball caps and hoodies. They were working on that.

"Fence ahead, Walls! You ready?!" Dick jumped from his nearest perch, a conveniently placed window, and grabbed onto a low hanging ladder before launching back into the air.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Wally muttered as he saw the tall, spiked black fence. Without hesitation he used a nearby trash can to leap upwards, bound off of one wall, snag the top of the fence, and swing over in one fell swoop. His feet landed softly on the other side and a smile twitched over his face as he took off again amidst his pursuers' cries of frustration and Dick's delighted laugh.

"You did it!" Dick whooped when they finally slowed down enough to go over what they had.

Wally rolled his eyes. "Of course I did. Who do you take me for? I am the great _Wally West_!"

It was Dick's turn to snort, "Oh, yes. The _great_ Wally West! Hear all about his amazing fence hopping skills and impossible to catch speed! I'm sure there is _no one_ else in the vicinity who could do it too!"

"I'm no longer talking to you."

"You just did!"

"Doesn't count."

"How about that time?"

"Who is the older one here?"

"You are."

Wally paused for a moment and then groaned, "Darn it, Dick. I walked right into that, didn't I?"

Dick just grinned and dug into his bag, the topic dropped.

"Do you think that there will be anything good this time?" Wally asked instead, turning his attention to his own bag of pilfered stuff to sort through it. Silently he pulled out an old red shirt with a yellow lightning bolt on his and his nose wrinkled slightly at the smell.

Dick shrugged and continued to bury himself. "Who knows."

Clothing, gadgets, and food were quickly sorted into different piles as they emptied the bags, keeping up a steady stream of conversation as they did so. It wasn't until Dick went suddenly silent that Wally paused to look up, only to be met with the grinning face of his friend as he held up a small sewing kit.

Wally grinned back.

Jack pot.

0~o~0

M'gann looked around her small room sadly even as she hiked the small pack higher on her shoulder.

Even though she had never felt welcome the simple abode that her family lived in was all that she had known for her entire life. Her siblings, all sixteen of them, wouldn't understand. They were just like everyone else.

When M'gann had first heard about _Earth_ it had been like a fantasy come true. A world where she could hide what she was, where she could be _herself_ , not the monster that everyone on mars expected her to be.

Uncle J'onn, that was what the rest of her family called the green Martian who had made favorable contact with earth. She had never meet her distant Uncle, never knew if he was just as prejudice as every one else. For a time she had contemplated begging him to take her to earth with him, to help her escape her captivity.

But she couldn't risk it.

He had shown Mars the wonders of the human world. Now she had to get there on her own.

 _I can't trust anyone._

Two years she had been planning this, putting together diagrams and blueprints, gathering parts, rebuilding the old spacecraft that she had found buried out in the desert sands.

Two years leading up to this moment.

Her room was near empty except for the sparse furniture and note laid delicately on the bed. What little that she owned, that her parents allowed her to have, was packed away in her backpack or on her space ship.

She was leaving. For good this time.

Silently she turned and left, not giving her room another glance. Sneaking out of the house was easy. Everyone else was dead asleep, helped along with a little sleeping powder in the food they'd had her cook. They wouldn't be waking up any time soon.

It took her nearly an hour to reach the space craft and to make it inside, shivering slightly from the cold night air (temperatures plunged without the sunlight). Within minutes of arriving she had the ship in the air and sailing away from the planet that had been her home to so long.

M'gann took one look back, before hardening her heart and turning back to space, her features molding from the monstrous form she had been born with to the smaller, simple human visage that she had come to be familiar.

 _I'm sorry_ , she thought, a tear slipping from one eye, _Goodbye._

With a wink of light, the ship vanished and sped away, never to return to the planet of its origin.

0~o~0

 _". . . and the Flash has once again saved the city from total destruction and the chaos caused by yet another one of Mirror Master's schemes. Just earlier today nearly the entire Central City population was put in danger when the escaped villain turned his mirrors on the people, making copies of himself and others to overwhelm City Hall. As you can see,"_ a video popped up showing the Flash fighting himself as well as several other people before smashing the mirror responsible for the entire mess and making everything revert back to normal, _"everything was under control and the authorities arrived just in time to retrieve Mirror Master for our own residential hero, The Flash."_

Barry sighed and dropped the remote, rubbing his face as he did so.

Six months. Six months he had been searching with no clue, no hint, to go off of. It was almost as if his nephew had vanished off of the face of the earth when he ran away.

Who knew one teenager would be harder to find than the dozen or so villains that he fought daily. Of course, he knew most of them, but he had never met his nephew. He didn't know how the kid thought, didn't know where the other would go.

All he could hope for was that Wallace was still alive.

Iris watched her husband from the kitchen as she dried dishes, frowning sadly. She, too, worried for her nephew, but she hadn't taken it as hard as Barry had.

Barry was a super hero. He was supposed to help people, yet this one little kid had managed to elude him for half of a year since they had found out about him. His confidence had taken a huge blow, and it reflected in his fighting as well. His jokes were becoming fewer and he had started to loose the happy attitude that had drawn her to him in the first place.

Barry was losing himself in grief.

And she didn't know how to help because she was grieving too.

Wallace (or Wally, as she had found he like to be called) had been a slim child, clearly from how little he was allowed to eat. His pictures, though the smiles were large, clearly held an inner sadness that Iris only now realized to be fear of his home life.

It was a surprise that he had survived as long as he had.

Iris knew that Wally had to be out there, scared and on the run, not knowing that he would never have to go back to _that_ family ever again.

Not knowing that there was someone out there who cared for him.

Iris put down the glass plate carefully, her hands shaking even as he leaned up against the counter, her shoulders shaking in silent sobs and her eyes clenched shut.

Wally _was_ out there. He _was_ alive. He . . . he had to be.

The alternative was to horrifying to think about.

 _"On another note, there have been rumors that another group has taken on the villain of the city using an unconventional rout: their henchmen. In a slew of looked like childish pranks and thievery several known villain hideouts were robed and . . . decorated creatively. Though these rumors have only reached the public recently, it is clear to everyone that_ someone _is sabotaging both the villain's reputations and their traditional bases."_

Barry blinked from his slumped position on the couch and sat up, paying more attention. Anything that pertained to the crime in his city pertained to him, and this sounded interesting. 

_"As of yet, no one has managed to_ catch _these mysterious thieves but several clues have been left behind, including the carving of a large bird left on the walls of the places that they have hit. Though experts have yet to determine what kind of bird it is, one thing is clear._ They _are not about to disappear."_

Barry frowned, leaning forward as a picture of the bird etched into the wall appeared up on screen.

This . . . deserved some looking in to.

 _"Any information regarding this new anti-villain group is to be given to the police immediately . . ."_

The TV was switched off.

0~o~0

Sweat beaded her brow and her eyes narrowed in concentration behind her tiger mask. Fire flickered all around her, bathing the shadowed training area in orange light. The sun had long since set.

 _There_. A glint of light to her left caught her eyes and she dodged, but not soon enough. A thin slice cut through her cheek as she spun away, further back into the shadows. Her opponent crouched, catlike and ready to pounce, two pike like knives in either hand, held expertly.

They eyed each other silently, ready for some hidden signal to move.

Seconds passed before the first flinched, and then the where back in action. Dodging, slicing, ducking, jumping. Two cats, smooth, precise, and deadly. A Cheshire grins in the darkness, dodging the long, tiger like claws.

And then, suddenly, it is over.

The one with the tiger mask is on the ground, a foot on her chest and a knife at her neck, the ever grinning Cheshire grin leering in her face.

 _I wasn't fast enough. I let her in. I failed. Again._

"Disappointing," a deep voice drawled from the darkness, "I expected more from you, Artemis."

The girl behind the tiger mask grimaced, "I'll work harder."

"Be sure that you do," the voice replied even as the speaker stepped clear of the shadows, revealing the notorious villain, Sportsmaster, "Or next time I'll just let your opponent finish you off. Cheshire, we have a new assignment. You know the drill. Come, we must prepare."

The woman who had Artemis pinned glanced up and then withdrew smoothly, striding confidently toward the already retreating figure. "Of course, Father," she replied and then paused at the edge of the shadows, glancing back at the orange and black striped girl who she had just beaten to the ground, "Better luck next time, _Sister._ "

Artemis bit her lip, refusing to cry. She had _chosen_ this. She had chosen to follow in her families footsteps. To become stronger so that she could protect and care for those that she was close to.

Sometimes she wondered if she had made the right choice.

 **0~o~0**

 **Yah! That's two chapters down!**

 **Anyway, I'm going to hold a contest for the superhero names for all of the kid superheroes. No, they aren't going to have the same names as in the cartoons (except for Robin because, contrary to what most people think, his name was something that originated from his** ** _past_** **, not from Batman) and no you can't chose them because I already have them all picked out.**

 **What I am going to do, however, is let you all guess. The first person who guesses correctly for each character will get a bonus sneak peak about the future of that character through a PM, which means that guest reviews are out . . . sorry.**

 **You will all have one clue: all of the names are different kinds of birds (Robin [already taken], Swan, Woodpecker . . . so on and so forth).**

 **There are four characters that can be guessed and two surprise guests. Each person can guess for all of the characters but even if they get more than one correct they will only receive the bonus material for the first one that has not already been taken.**

 **Character list:**

 **Wally –**

 **M'gann –**

 **Artemis –**

 **Conner –**

 **Surprise Guest #1 –**

 **Surprise Guest #2 –**

 **I wish you luck!**

 **Review!**

 **(Updated: 7/4/2016)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice.**

 **Chapter 3**

 _Tigress_

 _"When seeking for revenge, dig two graves. One for the person you are after . . . and one for your self."_

 _-Unknown_

He crouched on the edge of the roof, feeling slightly exposed in his ragged hoody and flimsy black goggles. The cold wind rustled through his clothing, but he did little more than flinch. White fingers clutched tightly around the chunky, black radio in his hands which felt cold to the touch. He twitched ever so slightly as it crackled on.

 _"This is Robin. Come in Falcon,"_ Dick's voice made Wally sigh slightly in relief and he relaxed slightly.

"Falcon here," he replied, "Did you get everything out ok?"

A chuckle came over the line, _"Sure did. I also might have left a few surprises for our . . . enterprising thugs."_

Wally sighed softly, "Yah, yah, I get it. Typical procedure then?"

 _"I'm feeling a bit creative tonight. Why don't you pick the decoration?"_

His cold fingers twitched as he smirked slightly, "You sure you don't have a grudge against this particular group?"

 _"Meh. They're Mirror Master's vassals. He tried to turn everyone into their reflection just last week."_

"Flash stopped him, though."

 _"So? Still not happy."_

A chuckle slipped past his lips. "Oh, fine. Any particular color that you want?"

 _"Color?"_

"You said that you wanted something creative."

 _"Hm . . . how about something that goes BOOM?"_

Wally paused thinking. His left hand skimmed over the dozens of vials clipped to his side, each made by stolen or dubiously acquired chemicals. Before he had run away Chemistry had been one of his favorite classes and he used what he learned to good use. The bottle filled belt clipped around his waist was proof of that.

"I think I might be able to do that. Are you out of the building yet?"

 _"Give me ten seconds."_

Grinning, Wally stood from his crouched position and selected two vials. Silently, he began to count in his head.

 _10 . . . 9 . . . 8 . . ._

He gently swirled the vial in his right hand, the slightly separated contents slowly mixing back together.

 _4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . ._

"You have better be out by now, Rob," Wally called over the radio and then threw the vials.

They spun, end over end, one after the other, toward the rooftop of the warehouse. The first hit and shattered, scattering the contents in pearls of clear liquid. A second later the last vial splattered over the previous. For a moment nothing seemed to happen, and then the contents suddenly started to fizzle and bubble, frothing where they had made contact.

Within moments the two previously clear substances mixed and became something new. Right before his eyes there was a flicker and then it was as if the entire roof was on fire with dark, unfeeling blue flames. It wouldn't leave any permanent damage, of course. This was a cold fire. It would probably just lightly singe the shingles. As soon as the fuel was burned up it would vanish without a trace.

"Wow," Dick's voice echoed from behind him and Wally glanced back, grin not vanishing, "That's . . . different."

Wally laughed as his friend examined his handiwork. The blue fire was, vaguely and only if you squinted, in the shape of a bird. "I know it's no carved up wall, but I think it has a bit of character, don't you think?"

Dick snorted and leaned back. In the distance alarms started blaring. "Yah . . . but let's not use it too often."

Shrugging, Wally chuckled softly, "Probably a good thing. The materials are hard to get my hands on, anyway."

Dick nodded and glanced up. "The Flash will be here soon. We better leave."

"You're just jealous," Wally said as he rolled his eyes and turned to go back the way that they had come, "Anyway, did you get anything good?"

A grin slowly slipped over Dicks face as he started to follow the other, picking up a bag from the roof that hadn't been there before as he did so and swinging it over his shoulder, "Sure did."

Wally's smile turned devious, "Well, _let's see it_ , then _!"_

Dick's insane laugh followed them all the way home.

0~o~0

All around her the ship groaned as the atmosphere burned against it. She closed her eyes tightly as she focused on keeping it from losing course.

"Just a little bit longer," she muttered to herself, "Just a little longer . . ."

The ship rattled in protest, its sides heating up rapidly. A silent notification made her snap her eyes open.

"We're approaching the ground!" she nearly screeched and then thrust out her arms, eyes glowing green. Again, the ship groaned but shifted, the nose breaking out of its downward plunge into a slightly gentler glide.

Not gentle enough, however. The tip hit the ground with a hard crunch and she wobbled, as the ship skidded for several feet, losing its camouflage coating. Finally, it came to a rest, settling deep into the scared ground.

The ship's only occupant lowered her arms, blinking slightly as she swayed.

"I'm . . . I'm here," she murmured softly, blinking rapidly. "I . . . I _made it_."

A dazzling smile split her face . . . and then she fell over in an exhausted faint.

In one last effort, the slowly self repairing ship flicked the camouflage back on, just in time for Martian Manhunter to fly over, unknowing.

He didn't glance down in time to see the familiar ship fade out of existence.

0~o~0

Green Arrow glared behind him in annoyance. He caught sight of his stalker as the other ducked out of sight behind a building hastily. Really, the gaudy yellow and red suit was an _awful_ choice of costume when trying to be inconspicuous.

Over his superhero carrier Green Arrow had chased off his fair share of wanabe's and stalkers. Every hero had at some point. Even the Batman had gone through a phase where every low life, high aspiring, _busybody_ had wanted to be _the Batman!_

Of course, this was the first time that one of his stalkers had persisted for more than a few weeks. Hey, he'd been plain out ignoring the kid and look what happened! The kid had gone and gotten himself a bow too! And a costume! And a mask to go with it!

At least he had the sense to be original in the shading, even if Green Arrow disliked the colors. Really, the kid looked like he was going for a cross between Robin Hood and a circus performer.

On to better topics, the kid was still following him!

Green Arrow groaned slightly as he caught another flash of yellow around another building that he purposefully ignored again. So long as the kid didn't show himself, or get caught, _or_ get in his way, he would be allowed to go jumping around rooftops all he liked.

Even if Green Arrow felt like tracking him down and knocking some sense into him.

0~o~0

Roy growled slightly as his idol turned away _again._ He'd been sure that he'd been spotted that time! He'd been so obvious!

Sometimes he wondered if the other was purposefully ignoring him.

The bow in his grip tightened and then relaxed as he let out a sigh of defeat and glanced at the sky. The sun was coming up soon and patrol would be over for Green Arrow within an hour or so. There was no point sticking around at this point.

Roy turned around and slipped into the shadows, keeping himself from being spotted as he ran from roof to roof. His path was already mentally marked and planned, making it easy to him to remember the fastest rout. Within ten minutes he arrived at his destination.

He crouched down, gripping the edge of the roof as he swung outward, angling himself so that he could land precautious on the crumbling windowsill. The entire building looked like it should have been demolished and rebuilt ages ago, but Roy didn't care. What others clearly didn't want was up for grabs, in his opinion.

The window opened quietly under his gloved fingers and Roy hopped inside, examining the small room that he emerged in for signs of being tampered with. The once white walls were pealing and yellowish in color while rust splattered the creaky bed frame in the corner. There was no mattress of the skeletal metal support poles.

A floorboard creaked as Roy walked across the old wooden floor, slightly warped from time and roof leaks. He put his bow in the corner gently then began to shed his 'hero' costume.

First the mask was pealed from his face, revealing tired blue eyes. The hat was chucked next, landing neatly on the top of a splintered chair. A quiver, full of homemade arrows, thumped to the floor next to the bow. One by one bits and bobs were pulled off and settled on the floor, revealing the scruffy, dirty clothing beneath.

Roy's hands shook slightly as he grasped at a small necklace hidden under his shirt. It was a locket, one that contained his most precious memory.

How many months had it been now? Five? He leaned against the wall, silently fighting back tears.

It had been so long since he had seen the man he had considered his father. The old man had taught him everything that he knew about the bow. He had been with him since he was little, before Roy could remember.

When he had died, Roy felt his heart tear in half.

There was only one purpose in his life now. His father's last words.

 _"No matter what happens, use your skills for good. Become the person . . . I_ know _you can be . . ."_

"Don't worry," Roy said softly, squeezing the locket one last time before he dashed away the tears and pushed away from the wall, " _I won't give up_."

Green Arrow _would_ take him in; even if Roy had to save his life before the other man would acknowledge him.

 _"I will not fail."_

0~o~0

Her long, white fingers traced the grooved mask staring back at her in black and orange. It was a symbol of her family, her heritage, her inheritance.

It was everything that Artemis hated.

"Are you ready, Sister?" the silky voice of Cheshire called from the doorway, startling her slightly.

Artemis winced and licked her lips. Her throat was dry and when she spoke it came out in a quiet rasp, "Yah. I'm coming."

There was no hesitation, no show of weakness. The mask was slipped on silently and swiftly. When she looked up, she was no longer Artemis, the scared little girl that had pleaded for her sister not to leave. She was no longer _weak_.

For the first time in years, the Tigress was on the prowl.

 **0~o~0**

 **Well, it's not as long as my other chapter, but I think it's decent enough. I've only read through it once so there are sure to be lots of errors. Don't be discouraged if you find yourself stumbling over bad sentences.**

 **As for my last competition, it is officially over. I think that all of the characters and their hero names have been guessed. Maybe. M'gann's might still be up in the air, last I checked (her sneak peak was so** ** _awesome,_** **too, and a complete suspense builder/plot spoiler).**

 **Anyway, I hope you all liked it. Read and Review, please!**

 **(Updated: 10/19/16)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice.**

 **Chapter 4**

 _Altered Destiny_

It took M'gann only a few minutes after awaking to realize that Earth was nothing like Mars.

Whereas Mars had scorching heat during the day and freezing sand at night, Earth seemed to stay relatively one temperature. The atmosphere, much thicker than Mars's own, contained the warmth through the night, but kept out the worst of it during the day.

Shifting sands, whipping winds, angry sneers . . . she encountered none of that while on Earth. Instead it was gentle breezes, lush landscapes, and quiet countryside.

For several weeks she stayed near her crash site, exploring the area around it as her ship recovered from its violent entry. To tell the truth . . . she hadn't expected the quietness. All those video's she's watched included schools, people, and lots of social activity. She'd even shifted her hideous, boney form into a more acceptable human appearance.

However, she hadn't found anyone.

Deciding that it would be best to keep a low profile M'gann stayed in the shadows. When her ship recovered she started traveling farther, and that was when she first found people. It was in a small town, several miles away from where she landed.

They . . . didn't take well to her green skin.

Being declared a demon and told to die while having rocks thrown at her scared M'gann, and once again she fled back into obscurity. It was slow learning. She changed her 'human skin' to white with a few freckles, and carefully acquired a jacket, even though she didn't really need it, to help blend in more.

No matter what happened, however, it was a lonely life.

She traveled, she learned, and she hid.

This wasn't what she was expecting. There was no welcome, no new friends, no happiness. Maybe if she'd gone to her Uncle but . . . no. If he found out about _what_ she was, well, he'd send her back. And no matter how disappointing Earth turned out to be, she preferred it to anything that Mars offered.

It was two years after her original crash landing that M'gann ran into someone who would change her life. _Literally_ ran into them . . .

"Omf!" Both M'gann and a tall red head said as they tumbled back. M'gann rubbed her head in irritation where it had knocked against his collarbone.

"Hey! Watch where you're going you . . ." the red head trailed off as he finally looked up at her and his eyes widened, "U-um . . . I'm mean I'm sorry for bumping into you Miss Pretty Lady – no that's not right, stupid, stupid, stupid! What would Rob do? – Oh! Can I help you-"

M'gann held her index finger, barely holding back giggles at his foolish attitude even as she hid further in his jacket. "First of all," she commented mildly, "I forgive you. We both rounded the corner at the same time, there's no way that we could have seen each other in time to stop," Well, _she_ might have, but only if she'd been paying attention, which she hadn't been, "Second, my name is Megan, what's yours?"

"Oh, I-I'm . . . I'm Wally!" he accepted her hand in slight awe, as if stunned that a girl was actually paying attention to him, "Do you live around here? Where are you from? I don't recognize your accent. Did you recently move here? When-"

M'gann was slightly taken back as he rapidly fired his questions at her. Finally, she just shook her head and interrupted, "No, not telling, I doubt you would recognize my accent, and yes I recently moved . . . _here_. Um . . . I think I got all of your questions?" she asked hesitantly, starting out strong and then quieting toward the end as her confidence wore down.

Wally blinked and that smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head as he did so, "Sorry, I tend to ramble sometimes."

M'gann laughed, enjoying the conversation. "What about you?" she asked, "Do you live around here?"

Wally instantly clamed up, his eyes becoming wary, "You could say that."

"Oh . . ." M'gann didn't know what she'd said wrong, but decided to quickly change the topic before it became awkward. "Do you go to school here?"

To her horror, that seemed to make him even more nervous, shifting from foot to foot, and then he sighed.

"Look, my situation isn't really . . . _normal,_ you could say. Please don't tell anyone but I actually live-"

"On the streets?" M'gann said, suddenly realizing why he was so nervous. "Oh, I . . . I understand."

"You do?" Wally asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

"Yah, actually . . ." she pulled her jacket closer around her shoulders and shrugged, "I . . . am also doing that."

"Oh . . ."

"So . . ."

"Wally!" a new voice bounced off of the walls as a second boy came skidding around the corner, "Wally, we got to go! They're-" he froze, sliding to a stop as he came face to face with M'gann, who blinked for several surprised moments before suddenly skipping back.

"Why . . . are you wearing a mask?" she glanced at Wally and suddenly noticed his own mask that he was hiding behind his back. A headache formed into her head and she glared at them, " _Please_ don't tell me that I ran into _another_ criminal! I won't let you hurt anyone else!"

They both gawked as she settled into a fighting stance, and then the smaller one burst out laughing, doubling over even as Wally backed up slightly.

"I'm serious!"

"Y-y-you think – haha! – that were _criminals_?" the black haired boy chuckled, as his cackling laugh faded away, "That's a new one."

"Well what was I supposed to think?" M'gann snapped back, "You're wearing _masks!"_

The boy grinned and looked her straight in the eye, "Well, superheroes wear masks too . . ."

". . . oh."

She didn't realize it then, but that encounter would shape her future for the rest of her life. Two boys in an alleyway, both of them wearing masks. And her, the little, meek girl who dared to stand up to them even though, and _because_ of the face that she though that they were going to hurt someone.

Let's just say that her courage earned her points with them . . . and a new nickname.

But that came later. Much, much later.

"There they are! Get em' boys!" a gruff voice shouted and Robin's eyes widened. Before either of them could react he grabbed their arms and started to run.

M'gann couldn't help but laugh at the situation that she'd gotten herself into.

She'd been avoiding the superheroes . . . and now she was being dragged along by two kid sized ones, if their claim was true.

Oh the irony.

For the first time in a long time, M'gann felt something like true happiness bubble up in her.

0~o~0

The currents wrapped around him, careful and calm. They drifted, carelessly, across the ridge that the rested on, his eyes closed, simply _feeling_ the ocean. Little fish drifted out of the nearby coral, curious to their unexpected visitor, but he didn't move. A deep breath through neck gills, the flex of webbed fingers, dark, tattooed skin rippling in the dappled sunlight . . .

"So you accepted."

Dark lids opened. "And you did not."

Garth sighed and drifted down to sit by his old friend, eyes far away as he looked out into the dark blue waters ahead of them. "No. I didn't. I wish to continue my education in Magic, and I can not do that when I am distracted with training for battle. That and . . . I do not want to dedicate my life to fighting."

Blue eyes turned toward the white haired teen next to him, "Those are my reasons. What are yours, Kalder?"

Kalder closed his eyes again and took in a calming breath, "Garth . . . you know me too well."

Silence swept between them, one waiting patiently and the other considering his words.

"When Black Manta came for us, for our people, we fought. We won. But, Garth, what if we hadn't been strong enough? What if the king had died before we got to him?" Kalder whispered softly, turning earnest eyes on his friend. "I, too, do not wish to fight, but I fear that our victory is not enough."

Garth sucked in a deep breath of shock, "You think Black Manta is still alive."

Kaldur tilted his head in agreement, "He was grievously wounded, yes, but we do not have a body. If he still lives, he _will_ come back. And until that day is upon us, I will prepare."

A heavy weight seemed to settle on both of their shoulders.

"For all of our sakes," Garth breathed, "I really hope you wrong."

Kaldur quirked the edge of his lip, but didn't reply.

"So, you had better tell me what the surface is like," Garth suddenly grinned, eyes lighting up as he changed the subject, forcing the dark thoughts to the back of his mind.

"I . . . am not going to the surface."

Garth blinked, "Your not? But I though that becoming Aqualad meant . . ."

"No," Kaldur bowed his head, "The heroes of the surface . . . do not _approve_ of children fighting their battles. Maybe, when I am older."

"I see . . ."

The two friends trailed off awkwardly, somehow both feeling that there was a rift between them, one that was steadily growing.

 _I don't know you anymore_ , It whispered softly, _That battle changed both of us._

Whether those changes were good or bad had yet to be seen.

Once again, what _should be_ became _what should have been,_ and destiny altered its course.

0~o~0

Arrows whistled through the air in the humid jungle, silently taking out their target one by one. Shadows flickered and _moved_ as the lookouts went down. Her people moved in on the downed bodies, past them, into the building. She breathed in relief, carefully not looking at the dark blotches leaking out into lush ground, staining green plants red. Her orange and black mask flashed against the background, somehow still invisible even with the color.

 _You shouldn't be here your not good enough Cheshire-_

 _Don't think about it. Focus on the mission._

Deep breaths. Calm the shaking fingers into notching another arrow. Watch.

 _I am Tigress._

Another guard rounded the corner, come to relieve on of his companions of their watch. He didn't even have time to scream as an arrow stopped his heart.

 _I am a Shadow._

A flash of light from the window; the signal. Mission complete: targets dead. _Breathe_.

Her fractured thoughts were the only thing from keeping _her_ from screaming. _They were just kids! Kids! I know that they are connected to the target but-_

 _Don't argue. I am Tigress. I am a Shadow. There is no where else to go._ _Argue, and you can't save_ anyone _._

The ride back to America weighed heavy with silence. Black clad assassins sitting calmly on each side of her, their commander and leader. Their faces showed none of their thoughts, carefully blank, uncaring. Her own mask features mirrored them.

And the final step, reporting to her mission . . .

"All targets are dead, Father."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Hm. I may have misunderstood your dedication, Artemis. Well done. Well done in deed. We will make a Shadow of you yet."

 _Breathe._

"Thank you Father."

"Get some rest, Artemis. You've had a long night."

In her bed, Tigress took off her mask and gazed into the hollow eyes, glaring soullessly back at her.

 _Look at what you've become . . ._

 _I'm so sorry Mother. You tried to warn me. You tried to make me understand . . ._

Tears slipped from her eyes.

 _I am sorry for being the Monster you feared I'm become._

 _0~o~0_

 _Oh, good going Oliver, you managed to get yourself captured. Again._

Green Arrow slowly pulled himself from unconsciousness. His eyelashes snagged against something ruff and the smell of burlap assaulted his sensitive nose. Oh, bag over his head, right.

"Hurry up! We have to get the machine up and running before anyone finds us."

That voice sounded eerily familiar, Green Arrow reflected with dread. Too familiar.

"Count Vertigo," he hissed softly, restrained muscles twitching. He tugged at his arms, tied behind his back, but they wouldn't budge. "I should have known."

"Ah, it looks like our _guest_ has awakened," the Count said smoothly as the sound of his footsteps drifted closer. "How good of you to join us, little archer."

The bag ripped from his head and Green Arrow closed his eyes against the bright, blinding light. A few blinks cleared up his blurry vision and he glanced up with a scowl.

"Well, I'm not too happy to see you, either," he grumbled and then spoke louder, "Why am I here, Vertigo? I don't recall dragging heroes into the middle of your base of operations something that you typically do."

The Count chuckled, low and dark, "Lucky for me I decided to . . . how you say, spice things up?" his chuckle deepened and he swished away, back toward where several other men were working around a large, metal sphere. "You see, Arrow, our interactions have become very _disadvantageous._ So, I have found a solution."

Count Vertigo pressed a button and the machine opened up, revealing a chair with several wires connected to it and a strange head peace. Straps around the arms made it clear what, and who, it was meant for.

"You see, a dead hero brings too much attention, and you have to find a way to hide the body."

A gesture of his hand caused two of the men who'd been working to grab Green Arrow by the arms and drag him forward, toward the machine. He tried to struggle, but found that his arms wouldn't give more that a feeble effort to move and his legs were useless and limp.

 _What did he do to me?_

"So, no, I am not going to kill you, no matter how much I want to," Vertigo flashed Green Arrow a grin as the hero was strapped down, "But what kind of hero would you be _without any of your memories_?"

Green Arrow hissed, eyes blazing, hiding the fear that he suddenly felt. "You-!"

 _You can't do this-_

"You will find, Green Arrow," Count Vertigo commented lazily as the helmet buckled together under Green Arrow's chin, "That you have no choice in the matter."

Black gloves inched toward the activation button as the men stepped backwards. Green Arrow braced himself.

"Vertigo, don't do this. The Justice League-"

"Won't have any idea where you are."

Centimeters from the button. Green Arrow felt sweat break out of his brow. Today was supposed to be a normal night of patrol, meaning that the Justice League _didn't_ know where he was, and he didn't have his communicator. His finger twitched, but just barely.

 _I still can't move, and even if I could there is nothing I could do._

 _I failed-_

A _twang_ sounded through the air, followed by the sound of sparks, and the lights suddenly went out.

Count Vertigo cursed and jerked back something came out of the darkness and struck where his hand had been moments before. "What the . . . someone is here! Find them!"

Even as chaos erupted around him Green Arrow couldn't take his eyes off the projectile that nearly speared Vertigo's hand.

An arrow, tipped with red feathers, was buried deep in the machine that had been created to wipe his memories.

An arrow that was most definitely _not_ his.

0~o~0

 **Wow, it's been a long time since I updated this . . . I hope you all liked this chapter!**

 **Just a notice, all story ideas that I have not published are on my profile and can be adopted. I will be leaving Fanfiction soon and so I am putting all of the ideas I have had over the last few years up so they don't go to waste. If you want to adopt one of them just tell me through a PM.**

 **Please, can you tell me how this chapter is? I really can't wait to put the next one up . . . It shouldn't be as long as last time either.**

 **Review?**

 **(Updated: 4/26/2017)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice.**

 **Chapter 5  
**

 _Arrow for Your Thoughts?_

 ** _"Hard times don't create heroes. It is during the hard times when the 'hero' within us is revealed."_**

 **-Bob Riley**

 _Just another night of senseless wandering, following a stubborn hero, and snacking on food from the rubbish,_ Roy thought angrily as he tore open a bag of sliced apples that had been left unopened from someone's school lunch. Joy.

A flash of green now and again told him that he hadn't lost his target yet. Of course, he had been following said target around for a while now. Practically every path the green archer could take Roy knew. And no, he was _not_ stalking. One would think that a paranoid hero would at least change their patrol routs but _no . . ._

Roy stilled, hand half way to his mouth, eyes narrowing.

The hairs on the back of his neck shivered in warning and Roy ducked deeper into the shadows, bag of apple slices disappearing into one of his pockets. He pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and placed it on the bowstring.

A shadow slipped past where he had been, following the direction that Green Arrow left in.

 _Ok. Maybe tonight's not so normal._

Following Green Arrow was one thing. The other hero had gotten so used to his presence, it seemed, that he ignored the younger hero all together. These followers, however, had not, and Roy wouldn't have an easy time avoiding their notice.

 _So, stay back a little bit. I'll be too far away to do anything if something happens, but Green Arrow can take care of himself. I just have to . . . make sure nothing goes wrong. Right._

And if something goes wrong?

 _I am so dead._

Deep breath in, the red and yellow figure darted out into the night, following both the hero and the shadow.

What he found, not two blocks away, made him want to turn around and run away.

It hadn't been just one shadow. There were at least a dozen men dressed in black surrounding the green hero . . . and Green Arrow was fighting them. Knives whistled through the air, intercepting arrows as the hero became overwhelmed, his bow knocked out of his hand, and himself wrestled to the ground.

Roy drew back his arrow, taking aim. If he could time it just right, the man holding Green Arrow would have to loosen his hold, allowing the pinned hero to escape. Now, if he could get a clear shot . . .

From the darkness another figure emerged, one eye covered with a strange contraption that looked like it was supposed to be a modified eye patch. A long cloak whirled around him, obscuring his thin but lean figure. Roy's fingers froze over the feathers on his arrow, his breath hitching.

Count Vertigo.

Being a 'hero hopeful' and living in Star City required knowledge on all of the typical villains of this city. Petty criminals were easy to take out, and usually easy to recognize. Corrupt politicians typically turned out to be a bit harder to point out, but it could be done.

Vertigo, on the other hand, was on a whole other level.

An in, _Super-villain_ level.

 _Green Arrow can handle this one._

"Knock him out. He needn't be conscious for the preparations."

Pined beneath two hundred pounds of pure muscle Green Arrow had nowhere to move when the hilt of a knife whacked him on the back of his head, knocking him out instantly.

 _Or not._

Roy's hands shook indecisively.

"Bring him to the base, the machine will be ready soon," the Count paused, scanning the rooftops with a frown. Roy ducked down further, hoping that he hadn't been seen. Suspicious eyes paused over his hiding place and then moved on. "You weren't followed?"

"There are no witnesses."

That _really_ didn't sound good.

"Good. Now hurry."

Roy let in several shuddering breaths as they left, not realizing that he'd been holding it in while the super-villain talked.

 _I shouldn't test my luck._

A few days ago he'd promised himself that he'd become Green Arrow's partner if he had to save the other's life to do so.

 _Looks like I'm about to get that chance._

The men left just as silently as they came, four of them carrying Green Arrow just above the ground as they walked. Roy waited until they were well out of sight before he made his move.

He gripped his bow with both hands, sucked in a deep breath, and leaped over the side of the building. Catching himself on the fire escape outside of the window Roy started to track Vertigo's men, never once setting foot on the ground. Roy knew these streets, he knew the back alley's and the shortcuts, probably even better than Green Arrow in some places.

If anyone could find where they'd taken Green Arrow, it was Roy. It was probably a good thing that Vertigo didn't know about him.

The trail, leading all the way to what _looked_ like an abandoned warehouse (a warehouse, really?), wasn't more than a mile from where Green Arrow had been attacked. Roy slipped in through an upstairs window and crept through the rafters till he had a good look at what was happening below.

 _"Never rush into a situation unknowing . . . that will just get you killed."_

A machine in the middle of the room ominously loomed above everyone else. Green Arrow himself was being dragged toward the chair at the center of the hunk of metal and wires. His limp form suggested either unconsciousness or inability to move. Either was bad in this situation.

"So, no, I am not going to kill you, no matter how much I want to," Vertigo flashed Green Arrow a grin, his voice echoing up to the ceiling in smooth, convincing tones, "But what kind of hero would you be _without any of your memories_?"

Roy felt the air leave his lungs at the same time that Green Arrow hissed, "You-!"

"You will find, Green Arrow," Count Vertigo commented "That you have no choice in the matter." The buckle of the head restraint popped into place loudly.

The men around the machine started to back away and Count Vertigo reached for the button that almost certainly meant _turn on_ and Roy . . .

"Vertigo, don't do this. The Justice League-"

"Won't have any idea where you are."

Roy didn't even think about a plan. He _acted._

 _Power box in the corner. Blow the power, and the machine doesn't work._

Pull back, breath, release.

An arrow whizzed through the air like a red streak, cutting through the wires leading to the power in one slice. A second arrow, let go seconds after the first, nearly pierced Vertigo's hand before he jerked back as the lights went off.

"What the . . ." Count Vertigo shouted in the darkness, voice full of rage as he saw the arrow, "someone is here! Find them!"

Fingers shaking, Roy dropped from the rafters, feet hitting the floor without a sound. Silently he spun around, using his bow as a club, and knocked out three of the henchmen. The last one gave a cry of surprise as he went down, giving away Roy's position. Roy was forced to roll away at the sound of gunshots and more cursing. There were even a few shouts as the men shot at each other, the darkness confusing their senses.

"Someone get the lights!" one man shouted, only to be taken down moments later as his feet were swept out from under him and he landed with thump against some crates.

"I can't," another responded, "The entire power box is busted! There is an arrow in it!"

 _Deep breath, draw, notch, shoot, roll, repeat._

Three more thugs toppled in the darkness, increasing the panic in everyone else.

"You fools!" a voice, Count Vertigo's, shouted above the chaos. "If I have to do it myself then I _will!"_

Roy gasped as the room suddenly seemed to vibrate under him and he toppled to the side, breathing heavily and clutching his bow in a white knuckled hand. A brief flare of light showed that one of the thugs had been smart enough to realize that the electricity didn't work and lit a makeshift torch, casting a faint light in the darkened room. Struggling through his sudden dizziness, Roy forced himself to move, closing his eyes as he attempted to keep his balance.

Right, he was dealing with Count Vertigo. Supposedly, the elder villain had an implanted eye that influenced the . . . sound waves? . . . and forced the inner ear to vibrate, thereby causing his victims to loose their sense of balance. In other words, really not good for a long distance fighter like Roy.

Rolling behind the mysterious machine Roy let his back slam against it and used that as an anchor. Right, no doubt he couldn't trust his sight, right now. The only way he was going to be able to get anywhere near Vertigo was to destroy his eye piece. Thankfully, the effect of the device only worked in a cone like area spreading farther as it left the eye . . . which meant that if he could get behind Vertigo he might be able to disable his eye.

Forcing his mind to think while under temporary cover, Roy took a deep breath and notched an arrow. Focusing on his hearing, he pinpointed two thugs to his left, slowly approaching, and another five to his right.

Left it was, then.

Darting out from behind his cover, Roy was hit with the full force of the dizzying waves but continued through it. He dove at the two thugs, snagging the cloth of their baggy pants and yanking as he rolled past, sending them both tumbling into each other. A second later he released an arrow in the direction of the sound attacks, causing them to be momentarily deflected. To everyone watching he looked like a dark red blur. Even in the flickering light of the torch his form was indistinct as he wove between men like a silent shadow.

It wasn't to hard to spot Vertigo, standing next to the man with the torch with his fingers on the sides of his head as if to concentrate his blasts of sound vibrations. Dashing the last few feet Roy lashed out, sending the torch flying and yanked out an arrow. Before either of the two could react he swiped the arrowhead at Vertigo's eye, making the other man jerk back in surprise. It did what Roy wanted though, and caught the edge, cutting the strap that held the device in place (like an eye patch) and forcing it to stop working.

"Arg!" Count Vertigo reached up to his eye as the device came loose, holding it in place but unable to activate it.

Taking his chance Roy slid up behind Vertigo and forced him into a headlock, arrow pointed at the elder's vulnerable throat. With a deep growl he smoothly spoke into the darkness, even the torch light gone out, "Anyone move, and he gets it."

Shuffling thugs froze in their places as they saw the vague form of their boss and his attacker highlighted in the faint light from an overhead window. Vertigo snarled and reached up to pry the arm from around his neck, but Roy only pressed the arrow harder against the skin, drawing a pinprick of blood. The Count paused at the unsaid threat, eyes burning with fury.

"You're bluffing!" one goon shouted, and then, more quietly to his neighbor, "He's bluffing, right?"

Roy shifted his form and the arrow glinted, drawing their eyes to the razor point edge, "Want to test that out?"

Count Vertigo spat angrily as he heard this, "Who are you? Certainly not a pathetic _hero._ You wouldn't dare do this to me if you were."

Roy's arm tightened, his lips thinning. No, he wasn't a hero _yet._

 _But I want to be._

"Put down your weapons and quietly stand by the door," Roy said, his voice a deep, menacing growl that was only enhanced by his shadowed figure.

The men hesitated and Roy rolled his eyes, shuffling his feet. A flicker of movement from Vertigo forced him to twitch and dodge a hidden dagger being sent back toward him. Before he could even consider his actions he dropped his arrow, grabbed his bow, and whacked the villain across the back of the head with just enough pressure to knock him out. Vertigo dropped and Roy strung another arrow up, pointing it at the gathered thugs, "Do as I said," he paused, "Now."

The brief scuffle with Vertigo was indistinct, but they had all clearly seen their boss drop suddenly. A deep fear spread through them. Who was this man . . . no, this demon who hid in the shadows?

One shuffled, then another, and suddenly they were all rushing to escape through the tiny side door. Arrows whizzed over their heads, seen only by the glint of light on metal as they missed by inches. Warning shots, but the men didn't know that. When they had all left Roy took a deep breath and, for the first time, turned toward the still tied hero.

Said hero was watching him with uncertainty and not a slight amount of fear. Due to the lack of lighting, he'd seen about as much as everyone else, which didn't bode well for his confidence in his rescuer.

Silently, Roy notched an arrow. His face could have been made of cold rock as he aimed, Green Arrow's eyes widening in realization, and fired.

0~o~0

Green Arrow didn't know what to think as the dark figure turned toward him after taking down Vertigo and frightening off all of his men. Of course, the arrow aimed at him didn't help.

His breath hitched as he stared into cold, emotionless eyes, shadowed by the darkness around them. For a second everything seemed to hover as if time had paused, and then the arrow sprang forward with a snap. Instinctively, Green Arrow flinched and closed his eyes, expecting death. After all, why would this shadowed figure come to save him?

There was a sharp clang and the ripping of cloth before suddenly Green Arrow found his arms free and he could move slightly again. He opened his eyes in surprise and glanced up.

The figure stepped forward into a narrow beam of light, highlighting his features. A figure he vaguely recognized.

Scowling the young boy crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at him, eyes narrowed, "Still going to ignore me now, old man?"

Well, this was unexpected.

0~o~0

 ** _Sneak_** **_Peak: Five years in the future . . ._**

 _"Who are you!" Speedy yelled, pulling back further on his bowstring, trying to ignore the shaking in his fingers as the other slowly stood up, black feathers shifting and fluttering around them as they stood from their crouch. "What are you doing here?!"_

 _He knew he should have listened to Green Arrow and left the solo patrolling to the elder hero, but he hadn't been able to resist the temptation. It had been a quiet few days and he had figured that a night running over rooftops wouldn't hurt._

 _He should have just stayed home._

 _Beady black eyes (or he assumed they were black, because he couldn't actually see them) glinted at him through the dark mask._

 _If it had been one of the villains that he knew then he would have no problem taking them down._

 _Whoever this was . . . they were different._

 _The dark figure had swooped down right in front of him and radiated the feel of_ _ **dark dangerous stay away . . .**_

 _A small smirk played over the pink lips he could see under the grey beak of the mask the other wore._

 ** _"I go by Raven_** _," she hissed, leaning forward,_ _ **"Who are you?"**_

 _Was running away still an option?_

 **0~o~0**

 **I hope everyone liked this chapter! It's all Roy, but, well, he demanded attention after the last chapter.**

 **Who liked the little bonus at the end of the chapter? It has been written for forever but so far ahead in the story that I never seem to get to it. So . . . I put in as a little sneak peak as to what it to come.**

 **By the way, this is probably the last update that I will have in a long time. You can refer to my other stories if you are confused.**

 **Review!**

 **(Updated: 8/29/17)**


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